Look at what we've built
by random-k
Summary: Dreams do come true, you just have to believe. Its dreaming without direction that's the dangerous part. Or, Henry goes back to the old studio, at Joey Drew's request.


Look at what we've built

_Fear the machine!  
I own nothing but my own ideas_

* * *

_Long, second person Henry, and follows game pretty closely. I've been working on and off of this for awhile, and I'm pretty sure I have lost all impartiality, but hey I'm glad I got it done in time for the Anniversary of chapter one! All title quotes are from Joey Drew._

_Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

_**It's simply awe-inspiring what one can accomplish with their own hands. A lump of clay can turn to meaning… if you strangle it with enough enthusiasm. Look what we've built! We created life itself, Henry. Not just on the silver screen, but in the hearts of those we entertained with our fancy moving pictures. But… when the tickets stopped selling… when the next big thing came along… only the monsters remained… shadows of the past. But you can save them Henry! You can peel it all away! You see, there's only one thing Bendy has never known: He was there for his beginning...but he's never seen: The end. "**_

* * *

Real and not real.

There has always been a blurry line between the two of them for you. The ink machine has always made it complicated. It brings dreams into reality. That's the beauty of it, and like all things, there is a dark side to the beauty.

Dreams have every potential to become nightmares, after all.

It's been years since you have seen this studio. It almost feels haunted, creaky and filled with old memories.

Is that footsteps coming from the below? Or just your imagination?

It doesn't matter yet. Nothing can start, before the ink machine is brought to life. And you know just where to find everything.

Ink. Music. Dreams. Ideas. Tools. And connections.

Representatives, of the concepts anyways. All provided by the staff to power the machine. The walk around is surprisingly nostalgic, in a weird way, you have missed this place.

Reality blurs. Ideas, once on paper, roam the halls. The Ink machine runs once more. Ink drips from the ceiling, flows across the floor, staining everything. It is unrelenting.

Bendy, from what you can see, as you run away, has evolved. It makes sense, of course. He's not only yours, has had a lot of influences shape him now.

And yet he is lacking something. A lot of something's.

The ink is flowing. Its claiming, draining you, of energy. It whispers.

You have to run. You have to run out of the door, out of the exit not too far away, and make a new plan. But things are never that simple.

The floor collapses below you. Your back hurts, and your ribs burn, but you are alive. Not safe. You won't be safe in this studio anymore.

A way out lies in front of you, boarded up by wood.

You have to get rid of it, for now. As if by intervention, a way appears.

An axe is not something normally found within a studio. Still some problems, should be solved by hitting them with an axe. Barred doors are simply one of them.

The path leads to a pentagram, drawn out in ink. The fall has drained you. The ink is a constant drain. You hear voices coming from the pentagram, somewhat different from the whispers of the ink.

You fall.

The voices get louder.

NO

It's not over yet. You are not finished here.

...

...

...

You get back up.

You can continue. There will be a way out of here, even if you have to dream it into existence. Dreams do come true down in here, though rarely in the way you would like. Just focus on the dream of escape, and take it when it comes.

The tape recorder plays a voice that sounds familiar, though you can not place exactly who. It will probably come to you later, when you are not trying to recall it.

You should find a way to drain the ink. Its not something that should be touched, particularly by skin. Too bad you didn't wear better boots today. It's too loud, and exhausting to work around. You would rather be directing it, then let it direct you. ..

Not that anything will stop it in the end. The ink is loud, and all consuming.

Unfortunately, you are not as alone down here as you might have hoped. Someone walks by wearing a bendy cutout over their face.

Is it the same person who has been writing on the wall? Where did they go?

**HE WILL SET US FREE**

It shouldn't surprise you anymore. The things the ink machine can bring into reality. It's why you left. It's why you came back.

The bendy cut outs, seem to point where you need to go. Perhaps this is a sign. But all that appears around the corner is another bendy cut -out, around a pentagram.

You want to avoid the pentagrams after last time. Instead you look for switches to raise the gates.

Where did Joey even get the money to build the music studio below the art studio? You don't ever recall it being this big.

Nor do you recall having to fight ink creatures, last time you were here.

The ink machine is creating faster then you predicted. But you push on.

You left something unfinished here.

Drain the ink first. Enough to focus, at least. Hopefully enough to resist obsession.

You listen to the old recordings as you go. What has happened here, in the world of ink creation? How does it vary from the one you know.

It's hard to remember. Hard to think of a time before the studio.

Why is it you recognize the voice of Wally Franks, after all this time? It's probably his insistence that he's outta here, for many varied reasons that piled up over the years, but he never seemed to act upon.

That his keys are in the place he mentions on the tape recorder, is either a tribute, or a joke, and you haven't quite made up your mind on it.

It's been awhile since you have heard Susie speak. What happened to her anyways?

There is also a very familiar voice you have heard in the recordings, but you can't place yet. You have an uncomfortable feeling you should know him. You only really connect it when Norman Polk mentions him.

Sammy Lawrence.

Musicians can be strange creatures, but Sammy was a class of his own.

He used music based codes, on his locks. And they were timed.

_YOU HAVE TO HURRY_

Of course, that's when things start to happen. You have turned down the flow, but that is more than enough time to get ready.

Someone is watching you.

You recognize the shape now, a silhouette off to the sides in the music studio.

What is Sammy doing here?

And then you are attacked by ink beings.

You fall. But you get up again, ink whispering in your ears. You make your way back.

**IT'S TIME TO BELIEVE**

You find the pump. But not long after, you are hit on the head.

Sammy really seems to have gone off the deep end here, into a religion of sorts. He's wearing a Bendy mask, made of what looks like a cut out. He calls you a sheep. And he is made of ink.

You were hoping that was just a costume.

He seems to want to sacrifice you to his lord, which as far as you can tell, is your own drawing, brought to life nightmarishly. He hasn't really elaborated, but the mask is probably a sign.

You don't remember him being this weird. He definitely had his quirks, but this is beyond what you remember him being like. And he doesn't seem to remember you all that well. Which, fair enough, it took you a bit to remember him.

He wants to sacrifice you to free himself from his body. Does he plan to kill you and possess your body or something? Why?

You struggle, but to no avail.

Weirder still, is that he somehow manages to summon the ink daemon. So he still dreams. That could make things problematic. His dreams appear to be stronger than yours at the moment.

Something appears. You can't call it Bendy, it just does not feel like an appropriate name anymore.

Then, he tries to order it around, which was a mistake. Bendy disliked being ordered around. The ink daemon takes outright offence to it, ignoring you, in favour of killing him. At least, that's what you assume from the smear on the floor.

You are free.

Wait? Can Sammy really die anymore? Does this count as being freed from his body? One should be careful with dreams in this studio. Dreams do come true with the ink machine, and dreams can all too easily become a nightmare.

Never mind. You have no time to speculate. You are free, and you have your own problems now. Like the ink sending out ink beings to attack you.

They have elongated arms, as if looking for something.

"They are searchers" you announce, and something seems to click into place. You are what they seek.

You break the wood in front of you, and one breaks your Axe.

Your axe is gone.

_YOU NEED TO RUN_

You are out of options.

You run and you run, managing to block it, only you are not alone.

You have nowhere to run or hide, and no tools to use. Nevertheless, you demand to see your would be killer.

"Boris?"

But he was dead!

The lines are blurred here, and this Boris is very much alive.

Perhaps it's another Boris?

* * *

"_**People don't know what they're aiming for. You've got to have a goal that stretches your imagination. You've got to dream big!"**_

* * *

You are almost sick of Bacon soup that you find down here, which is a shame, because you used to like bacon. But you are starting to feel, as though you would kill for a vegetable, or even just a variety in flavours of soup. Tomato maybe, or beef.

Boris's safe house is a nice break from everything, and Boris is a quiet and steady companion. He seems to be quite different from when you first envisioned him, and it takes you a bit to place why, he's scared. He used to be daring, and a lot more outgoing.

He has good reason to be scared, if the body back on the first floor was anything to go by.

Was it Sammy? It doesn't seem his style, crazy as he seems. Too much precision to the... Maiming.

Nice as it is to take a break, and recover from the concussion Sammy probably gave you , you have a mission to complete. Boris knows it too, much as he would like to stay hidden. You indulge him and make him some soup first, cursing the lunatic who first dreamed up Bacon soup.

Hopefully, this one was not on you.

There are places to hide outside the safe house. But who made them, and why?

Boris goes through the small space, hopefully to open up the door. But after waiting, you decide, maybe it lead elsewhere, or he ran away, and look for a new one yourself.

You come across a room full of toys, and where did all of this come from?  
You have to wonder who gave Joey the money to make all this space.

Or why he felt that a toy machine was even necessary. You unclog it, as it seems to be blocking the way out.

THE LIGHTS GO OUT!

The lights go out, and another being makes a dramatic entrance.

Must be an actress with all this drama and set up.

She calls herself an Angel.

This must be Alice. But which one?

Likewise a path lies in front of you. Daemon or Angel? You are not here for her. As you walk along the path, the door shuts behind you.

Shoes deep in ink, Joey's voice fills the room from the recorder, talking of dreams. The words sound more like something you might have once said, back before the war, before you knew how badly dreams could turn to nightmares.

Another Bendy cutout pops out from behind a corner at you, scaring you. Behind the corner is Boris.

Has he been doing it the whole time, or does everyone in the studio collectively decided to mess with you this way?

As if to make it up to you, he hands you a pipe, when you ask for protection.

You need it not long after, when a member of the butcher gang pops out from behind a poster of them. Or you assume. It's a bit oddly formed.

Why does this place even have coordinated levers? What was the architect thinking when he designed it?

You get on the elevator, and Alice decides it's a wonderful moment to dramatically monologue at you. Well that's actors for you. Or actresses in this case. She's pretty serious about staying in character too. Or in character, as far as a murderously insane Alice can be.

You didn't really think the Alice was all that much of a threat, until you come across another Boris body. And realize, you are standing in a room full of them.

While Boris stares at it in Horror, you come to a realization.

You had thought it was too Precise for Sammy. But Alice seems much more meticulous. But why would she do this?

Alice continues to monologue, confirming your suspicions, though her reasons... Perfection? She made me? But who?

There's another Recording here by Susie. The voice isn't quite the same, but she was a voice actress after all.  
Did she stay here to become Alice?

You come across Alice, or a deeply disturbing version of her, and try to look for Susie in her. You can't see it, yet.

She's monologuing about the possibility of killing you, which while deeply creepy, is something you are not giving full attention to. You already know, that this is all a too real nightmare.

What catches your attention, is her talk of the ink pulling her back.  
Like Sammy, she mentions living in a dark puddle.

OH!

OH

She has been claimed and consumed by the ink. Nothing but dreams to fuel the ink machine! She dreams. She breathes life into Alice's character, and into this world. She is a queen here, and directs as much as she is directed. This is what happens to those who go too deep, who stay too long. She is the closest thing to order, down here.

You had always thought Susie in charge would be a terrifying sight to behold, but you never dreamed it would be this! If it really is in fact Susie, as you suspect.

You have faltered and fallen here before. The whispers in the ink, get louder and clearer every time you come back.

How long... How many times did they...

No. You can not lose focus here, less you be consumed.

She offers you an exit in exchange for some favours, and while you probably shouldn't, one less person trying to kill you, and safe passage later, will probably be beneficial in the long run. Besides, how can you refuse. This Alice may be cruel , but is less mindlessly so then the ink daemon.

While you search the walls for gears, Alice begins monologuing again. You ignore most of it, but when she suggests hiding if you see the ink daemon, you decide to take her up on it. It's not a bad idea, as you doubt you could take him in a straight fight.

A man wanders around, with a camera on his head. Carefully, you avoid him.

Alice sends you out on another errand when you bring her the gears, which, of course she would. It's the first time you really see a something of the actress you knew once, in the Alice in front of you. Susie never did anything for herself, that she could get other people to do for her.

Your not really surprised, that she eventually asks you to do something that brings the ink daemon to the area. Just like Susie in fact. Susie liked to mess with people at a distance. You never really understood what Joey saw in her, beyond her talent.

Then again, he also had a large dramatic streak, and penchant for pushing limits.

Alice doesn't even let you keep the axe when she sends you off to kill the butcher gang! And then when you do, she doesn't even let you take the gun she offered! You have more business using that thing then she does! That's the gun you gave to Joey, what is she doing with it!

It feels like petty revenge, but for what!? It's still easier to stick with the devil you know.

A light shines out from the darkness.  
Alice names him the projectionist, and warns you to stay far away.

As if you needed that warning.

By the time she sends you back in the elevator, you are more than ready to go far away from her.

The she spends a lot of time talking about heaven, and starts giggling.

Oh no. You really should have known to get suspicious before the giggling. That usually only happens after Susie has succeeded in screwing someone over.

You look for a way out, but there isn't one.

Air rushes past your ears as the elevator descends. The ink whispers to you. You can almost make out words in it.

Your world goes black.

Boris is shaking you.

You try to say something, but you cough. Your throat tastes of blood and ink. Your chest hurts, and you are winded, and your ribs feel like they are on fire.

Your head hurts, you try to move, try to tell Boris something, that someone is coming, that its Alice.

You have no air.

You try to scream when it happens, but no sound comes out.

All you can do is lie there, listening to whispers of ink in your ear, try to breathe, and pray that no one else comes while you recover.

Your vision goes out. You wonder if you have another concussion, or if it is simply a continuation of the first one. You hope nothing is broken.

It feels like forever, but eventually things come back into focus, and you can sit up, and take deep breaths.

Your legs are shaky, when you do try to stand.

But you do manage to stand. That's important. You can not linger here any longer. Idling can be just as much of a sin as wandering.

You want to find Boris. This is personal now. You wouldn't mind taking a shot at Susie either. Or Alice, as she seems to go by now.

You do not appreciate all the falling you have done today.

It's been too long, since you dealt with Susie, it seems. You should have never underestimated her.

Your breathing has deepened a bit, and you decide it's safe to start walking.

Grant Cohen seem to have gone raving mad, not that you blame him.  
But his office has a wheel you need. You grab it and leave, glad to be out of there.

You enter a room with a tableau, and eye it suspiciously, half expecting the ink people in it to attack you. The books you thought were another pattern to open the door, instead trigger the chandelier, alarming you.

Except a closer look reveals nothing was disturbed. This place is getting to you.

It's all in your head, it's all in your head.

Your chest hurts from the deep breaths you take, but the pain is fading, thankfully.

A cage dangles over the stairs.

You need to fix the bridge, and to do that, you must use the ink. Ink and dreams, to manifest something into reality. The power of the ink machine. Addicting. But you see no other way. You must not get lost within here, you might just lose yourself that way.

The essence of an ink figure, is fed into a small machine. A cog, brought into reality with a little ink, and by your need for it.

As you ride across, it jolts, and you fear that you will fall off of a large height for the third time today. Thankfully, it does not come to pass.

Not yet.

Arms grab out to you from behind walls. They can not touch you, but they reach out all the same. After a moment ,they disappear, and you wonder who's dream they were? Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe it's nothing but a hallucination.

Are they representing Susie's cruelty? Or the guilt you feel sometimes, for drawing this up in the first place?

YOU LEFT THEM BEHIND

Alice starts talking again, which is one of the last things you wanted to hear. More monologuing, by a self important voice actress.

What was that about staying in one piece!?

You wish your ribs didn't hurt too much to run. You might have tried to hide, when that poor ink figure started moaning about going home.  
The Tableaus of them, are really freaking you out. Their moving. And crying. You have never been so eager in your life, to go crawling around in a vent, with only a flashlight. Even if the ink daemon himself pops up to scare you. That's at least is almost expected at this point.

You have never met Bertram, but you have heard of him. You hope you don't have to meet him down here too, as you have your hands full dealing with Alice.

Apparently they made a Bendyland... Beneath the studio. Is it a memory? A dream that never came to be in life, brought into reality? You give up on attempting to understand the layout of this place.

You miss your axe. The gun at the Bendyland will not work well. Nor will the tennis balls. You resort to throwing cans to distract the "guards."

The Bendy animatronics stare at you, lifeless and creepy. A recording sits in front of an attraction.

You click play.

Bertram speaks through it from the long ago past. Anticipation runs through your body. That voice... it doesn't sound recorded. Lights turn on. The attraction begins to move. There is a face on it.

You blink, hoping you are making this up. There is a face on it.

"I'm still here"

Frantically, you search for a weapon. You dream that an axe will appear in the room.

Dreams do come true here, after all.

You don't know if you can beat this thing, but if you get close enough, you can weaken the joints.

Ink spills out, as you break it, and sparks rise up the more you hit it. Steam comes out of it, as it spins faster and faster.

The doors close, and you have no words.

You may have just killed someone.

You stand in silence, absorbing that.

You may have just killed someone. You have whacked searchers, and other beings of ink, and while you would like to take a swing at Alice, that's different. Alice made it personal. But this feels very different from everything else you have done down here. Maybe it's his voice?

This wasn't all that personal to you. Maybe it was meant for Joey?

You flip the power switch, and continue on to maintenance.

It is filled with ink, and guarded by the projectionist.

You are not sure how much your axe will help against it, should it see you.

Best not to get caught then.

The lights go out, when you flip the last one.

The projectionist sees you on the way out. You move faster, ignoring your aching chest. You enter the place to hide.

He knows you are in there.

You dream, and you pray he will be distracted.

Bendy comes from seemingly nowhere and fights the projectionist. You are not sure who you want to win. The ink daemon throws the light box, against the door, and grabs the body, dragging back to where he came.

It feels like your heart is beating through your chest.

TURN BACK

Its fresh, and dripping on the wall. You can't stop now. You get on the ride.

Alice takes that as an opportunity to monologue at you again. She seem to be in love with the sound of her own voice. You try to pay attention to the surroundings instead , which are interesting, and pretty in a creepy way. Well it does seem to be a haunted house after all.

Two large hands interrupt your ride.

But no. It can't be. You were too late.

Boris!

What has she done!?

He stares at you with dead eyes, and begins to push your ride car backwards. He tosses it to the side, and comes for you.

Alice braggs over the intercom, egging him on.

You fall, whispers in your ears. But you don't stay down.

You rise, and this time get out of the way a he crashes towards you. He leeks ink, and you grab some. Your axe is lost to you again, but perhaps you can make something from this ink. You just need a conduit.

It's a shaky dream, panicky and unstable, so while you get what you asked for, the items you make from it are one use.

It's a patience game, and it's driving you a bit nuts. When the room is cleared of most of the furniture, Boris begins to throw other things at you.

You strike him down, and Alice cries out.

What have you done.

He turns to the black ink he is made of, then fades away altogether.

You feel tears stinging at your eyes.

Alice is running at you like a madwoman! She's almost upon you, when a knife goes through her chest?

She falls to the ground. Another Alice stands behind her holding long knives! A Boris stands beside her, pipe at the ready.

You stare at them stunned, and for a lack of other options, go with them, before they drag you behind them.

You have so many questions.

* * *

"_**Every dream is a purpose. It fuels you, keeps you going. It can be your power or it can be your downfall. So dream hard... but dream wise."**_

* * *

Time has lost meaning here. They brought you to a safe room, and have kept you as prisoner. It gives you time to recover from your concussion, but the longer you stay here, the more untethered you feel.

You need to focus on your purpose. Losing that, means losing control over your abilities, to wrapped up in the dream, the story, to steer your own path. The walls whisper, swimming with ink. It binds you, claims you.

Idling is dangerous. You may be going insane from it. You may have been going insane before that, but the waiting has hastened it considerably.

Alice with knives talks to you sometimes. She seems to like you enough. Boris with axe does not, going so far to slap away the bacon soup she gave you.

You don't recall fighting with him. Maybe it's because they found you after killing another Boris?

They say, that they don't know if they can trust you. How they are supposed to test that, while keeping you locked up, is beyond you.

Alice writes on the walls. Apparently everyone just does.

You know that touching the ink here claims all, and you wonder how she seems saner then most of the other residents down here. Has she simply been less crazy than anyone else who used to work here? Or is she newer than the other Alice, or Sammy?

You wonder, and worry sometimes, what impacts the ink here has had on you. You don't dwell on it too long, afraid of what the answer would be.

She gives you a pane of glass, that she claims shows secret messages. It seems familiar, though you can't think of why?

**SHE WILL LEAVE YOU FOR DEAD.**

Alice seems to view you as a hope.  
Is she the one leaving all the messages about freedom, all over the place?

No, she doesn't believe she can leave.  
Still, there is more than one ways to free someone...

You don't know how long you stay there watching them, Dreaming of a way out. Time has lost all meaning.

You perk up when the Ink Daemon is on his way. It's not what you intended for your way out, but you can roll with it.

Alice begs Tom to help her let you out. Tom refuses. They leave you to your fate.

**YOU DRAW BEAUTIFULLY. TAKE THE SPOON.**

There is a pipe you can salvage from the toilet.

You leave your prison, and begin to look for a way out. There are wooden planks over a floor flowing with ink, which leads to an ink river and a boat.

**THERE'S SOMETHING IN THE RIVER**

The paddlewheel periodically gets clumps of ink stuck it it, that you must dislodge. A giant hand grabs a boat from the water in front of you. What even is that thing?!

It's a journey, both tedious and terrifying.

There appears to be some kind of town at the other end.

YOU BRING DEATH

You walk towards a boarded up door, and a familiar sounding voice comes through it.

It breaks.

Sammy!

But wasn't he dead? You are pretty sure you heard him die. You had been hoping that was the last you would see of him, after he kidnapped you, and gave you a concussion.

Oh no.

Does this mean you should be watching out for Susie too?

This is a disaster!

He's ranting, and raving, and coming at you with an axe! What does this studio even need so many axe's for!

After a lot of running away, and swinging blindly at him, you manage to knock his mask off. He has no face!

He has no face.

It is disturbing on so many levels. He cringes, in shame, running away.

You follow him, and perhaps that was a stupid idea, as it puts you well in range for him to grab you.

"You lied to me! You said I'd be free!"

He should know by now, that there is no freedom from dreams.

He pushes you to the floor, claiming he will free you, by cutting off your head.

He raises his axe, and you wonder how you are going to get up from this one. You can't think of a way, really, so instead you dream of a saviour.

He raises his axe, chanting about sheep again.

Sheep. Errand boy. Does anyone here actually have a decent nickname for you.

Boris creeps up behind him. Unlike Alice creeping up, you have no intention of screaming.

Boris kills Sammy before he kills you.  
You are graceful. Even if its axe Boris, the one Alice calls Tom, this more then makes up for leaving you to die earlier.

Boris pulls the axe out of Sammy's head, and for a moment you worry he will use it on you next. But instead, he gives it to you, by the handle.

"Was that him?" You ask, wondering what any of Sammy's rambling meant. It was... very different from last time. Was it even really Sammy?

Knife Alice tells you the searchers and the lost ones built this place, which brings up a lot of questions. How many people have died in this studio? This place has more people in it then seems reasonable, for a company that went bankrupt.

Sammy lead the searchers and lost ones? Sammy and Susie were leading this place!? They hadn't gotten on all that well, even back when the studio was in business.

You had thought Sammy was an isolated factor, roaming the halls alone. To hear that he has been keeping the rest in line, is worrying.

He's just died in front of a village of his people.

You shift into a better position to run, but it appears you are out of time.

Their numbers are overwhelming. Their glowing eyes are sometime the only thing that alert you to them, in the gloom. Their cries blend together, seemingly unending in number. You fall, and the whispers are louder then they ever were. That's not a good sign.

This time you are more careful, moving around more, to buy recovery time, and more space to use the axe.

This time you live. Knife Alice, decides to work as a group now. You politely decide not to bring up that earlier today, she left you for dead.

You enter a hallway, and the only way to cross it is a path of wooden planks. They seem to be pretty far away from any floor. No ink is visible beneath them.

Alice asks you to lead the way. You look at it nervously, remembering the terrible luck you have had with heights in this studio. You are the heaviest here, and likeliest to break it. But you don't voice any of that, taking a cautious step forwards to show them that they can trust you.

Of course, you don't get too far, before it breaks, sending you to the depths.

Once again, you get the wind knocked out of you, but luckily don't break any bones. You have unfortunately, once again lost your axe, which means you have no way to fight anything off, should they hear your heavy breathing and investigate.

The amount of times you have fallen from big hight in this studio is ridiculous.

You crawl forward, into some sort of reception room. There you sit, and work on breathing semi normally, before standing.

Your stomach still hurts, along with your ribs, and your lungs feel as though they are on fire, but finally, you manage to stand.

Has gravity reversed at some point? Or is it a loop? It looks just like the main floor, except it has Miracle stations now.

Music plays, providing a stark contrast to the rest of the building.  
A bit of looking around reveals more pipes missing from something important, which is just great. You need to dream up some more, and for that you will need ink.

A butcher gang member roams the halls between the offices here, and thankfully you are breathing better, and less likely to attract them that way.

Actually, they seem to talk more then the last ones. Gibber nonsense, really. They might not be the gang, but you really are not in the best of shape or mood to take a close look.

This part of the building is a confusing amalgamation of endless doors, and halls. You fall again. After another round of whispers in ink, you stop in an room and wonder if you will leave this studio as Henry. Its getting harder to come back every time.

Finally you find the ink you need. You make your way back to the conduit, and ink is covering the room. You hide until it has receded.

Now that you know the way, it makes it a lot easier to get to the rest.

Once you finally get all the pipes in place, you can continue. You come across a vault.

There is a box inside, and something that should be in there, is not. It's what you were here for.

Alice appears behind you, startling you out of your skin. Apparently she just used her rope. It probably would have been easier to have just used the rope in the first place, rather then tried your luck with the planks.

You are annoyed at her, but there is no time for that. You have a mission to finish. And if it's not here, then there is one other place, it must be at the heart of everything.

The heart lifeblood that brings dreams into reality. That consumes everything, in the end.

The Ink daemon would have it.

And maybe it's crazy, but sometimes you need to try crazy ideas, if you are going to get anywhere in the creative industry. You don't have a lot left to lose at this point, so why not! Its death, but that's where all things lead, in the end.

Knife Alice decides to come with you, and starts listing things needs to get through the door. Are all Alice's predisposed to giving you fetch quests! Thankfully Boris seems more inclined to use the brute force solutions.

Walking through the door, is like walking into the past, back before you fully realized what you had signed up for. Your old desks is even here.

Bendy walks past a window, and a sign on the wall points to death. You follow it to the ink machine, in all of its terrifying glory. Ink drips from it, creating a river around.

You shiver at the ominous feeling in the air. This is it. Dreams do come true. It's the beginning of the end.

You will have to say goodbye to your traveling companions, for they can not cross it without the ink claiming them. You wouldn't wish for them gone.

You have a goal, but you have no clue of how to go about implementing it. What are you doing here? You had intended to come here to say goodbye, to finish deeds left undone, words left unsaid, draw things that will go unseen.

It doesn't look like you will be able to do that the way you thought. Not anymore. You have too much attachment to it all. Well, sometimes the best ideas come in the heat of the moment. You will just have to wing it.

If you were offered a single moment to go back in time, and change your fate to avoid this moment, you don't know what you would change. Meeting Joey? Opening the studio? Going to war, and leaving him to his fate? Maybe a different collage, could have prevented you from meeting him, and you would be working somewhere else. Or maybe you would have died in the war instead on random shit luck, and it all would be moot.

You don't know. You don't know why you read the letter, you don't know how he managed to convince you to do this for him, you have no clue how to achieve that objective.

Your life now depends on fighting the ghosts of your past, and there is no turning back now from the collision it will take. One way or another, you are here to destroy your creation.

If only it didn't feel so senseless.

Alice implores you to set them free, but what does that even mean? Freedom? What form will this dream of freedom take for her?

They don't even give you a weapon.  
Then again, what weapon would even help here?

The ink machine creates continuously, creations built up by the ever flowing ink.

You open a door, onto a throne, in a room of TVs. Creations you helped build play on them, cartoons of old that you remember fondly.

You approach the chair, and play the recording, looking around the room in silence, as he talks. Hearing it out loud, well... Its crazy, and it makes everything feel suddenly real. This is the moment.

You feel watched.

As if called by name, Bendy appears behind the chair. He calls upon the ink. He grows. Bigger and bigger, and sits upon the chair as if it were a throne.

He has dreams of his own, and does not appreciate your attempts to end his.

You can hear your heart pounding against your chest, as if it were attempting to escape its confines against your ribs. You throat is dry, and you swallow in an attempt to feel something from it. He hits you, and that snaps you out of your daze. You begin to run.

He's charging at you, and while you frantically dodge him, you envision an exit. On your next frantic duck around a wall, you notice leavers.  
Well alright then.

You fall, and you swear it will be the final time, because you are not sure how many more times you can do this and come out sane. Your can't turn back, can't give up, you have to finish this. Filled with purpose, you get back up.

The door opens into a room with a grate over the floor. There are pipes and a wheel.

WHO'S LAUGHING NOW. On the wall in front of you.

Hopefully that is a remnant, and not an indication that Susie is hanging around, waiting to screw you over.

You haven't lasted this long through strength. That was true in the war, and it remains true now. Maybe luck has a part to play in it, but your biggest strength is your ability to work with your terrain. That and some planning, and a little bit of dreaming.

You turn the wheel.

Bendy may be bigger the you, and he may be charging full speed at you, but he's to angry to think. If he were thinking, he would use his extended arm length to grab you and crush you with his hands.

It's going to be risky, but he is only focusing on you. You have to keep it that way, keep his focus so narrow, that he won't notice his surroundings.

It's a risky plan, and you only narrowly get yourself below the pipe before he runs into it. It shatters, breaking on him, hurting both him and the machine.

You start running again. You have to make him break all of them.

You scramble, no control over your breath over to the next one.

By the third your ribs are burning, reminding you of all the falls you have taken in the studio.

By the time you try for the last, your breath is so short, it feels like something is squeezing your chest of all air. But you make it.

The glass shatters, and the lights go out, turning everything to black.

You get up, looking for him, but he's not here. Fountains of ink, have sprung up around you.

A light guides your way back to the throne room.

You put the final reel into the projector, and turn around to find Bendy has crept up behind you. Your heart stops in your chest. Maybe it doesn't work. Maybe ink or, or time, or exposure has killed it.

But when it looks like you are finished, the lights flicker, and Bendy turns.

The end.

Bendy roars, screams, fights against it. But it's too late to stop it.

The world around you lights up, and Bendy struggles, and fights, but can't resist his origins as a cartoon.

Time seems to stop.

You sit down panting, waiting for your heart to calm.

And it dawns on you.

This is the end of the reel, but not the end of the story.

It doesn't have the build up needed to end this. It doesn't cover anyone else, will haunt you, leave you up all night, trying to find the plot threads to build an ending that brings everybody the ending they deserve.

Joey won't be able to leave it alone either. Will keep dreaming about it, rewriting it over and over, making small changes each time, but never truly letting it go.

Maybe it's your first time here, or maybe its your thousandth, searching these halls for an answer, an ending that isn't really here. You need to build it. Joey needs to build it.

You don't know, or maybe you don't remember what happened here. Is this real, or metaphors to represent guilt? It doesn't really matter.

What matters, is that you go back to Joey's house.

You walk with purpose through the studio, unchallenged, in control.

You are the dreamer here, with the most purpose.

Alice strived for perfection, Bendy fought for existence, Sammy fought for faith, but you have beaten, outlasted, them all.

When you get to the door to outside,it opens, and you march into the sunlight.

You drive with purpose to Joey's home and check where he used to hide his key, and it's still there. Same place it always was . You let yourself in.

The banging of the door statues Joey.

"You call that an ending!" You start, before he can say anything.

"You may be a man of Ideas Joey, but you are terrible at building them into any sort of stable structure. It won't work, and we both know it. In a week, you will be editing it, looking for something better. But you can't see your own mistakes. You refuse to see them. "

"Why do you think I asked you to come? That's what you are good at Henry, fixing my mistakes, on paper and off of it."

"That's exhausting, and completely unfair to me, Joey!"

You take a deep breath. You are not here to rehash an old argument.

"You can't fix anything by hiding away. Come back to the studio with me. "

That startles him enough that he drops his cane.

"What!"

"You heard me. Come back to the studio with me."

"Henry, I can't do that."

"It's not that you can't, it's that you won't. But you need to come back, and finish what you started, make an ending that is worthy of everything we have built. Where better then the studio to dream of one?"

"My dreams are only shadows these days, Henry. Nightmares."

"They don't deserve to be nightmares. They didn't deserve anything that happened to them. But it did, and we will have to do a lot of work, to build them a way out, to give them what we owe. I left, and that has had its consequences too, and even though its been years since I set foot in there, I couldn't stop dreaming. I could never leave behind what I created."

Your throat is dry, and you get a glass of water, give him a moment to chew over your words.

"And you can't either. It's why you sit here, consumed by it. The ideas have claimed you as thoroughly as the ink, and you obsess over them even now. What if? What if? You can't change the past, but you can change how you deal with it, you can make something new with it. You have a lot to make up for, after all, and maybe this will be a way to make it up to them."

Joey looks at you for a long moment.  
"I'm sorry."

"That's good." You allow. "But not good enough. I'm not the only one you need to apologize to. And I should make some too, perhaps, but I won't apologize on your behalf. You need to do that in person."

"They might just kill me if I do that, after all this. "

"They might. It doesn't stick in there. Though, it comes with its own consequences, so try not to die. They are pretty angry at us, with good reason to be. You just have to remember your purpose. It's not always easy, but it's doable. "

"And If I won't go?" Joey challenges.

"Am I not pushing hard enough, like you accused me of? Hmm. I think at this point, I have more practice at bringing my dreams into fruition then you do. Did you dream me a way out, after you sent me in? That ink on the letter, wasn't regular ink, was it? I am just as capable of dreaming as you, Joey. Do you want to see what I can make with them?"

"I don't want to fight you."

"Then don't. Work with me instead. Come back to the studio."

"And if it claims me again?!"

"Do you really think it ever gave up the claim in the first place? We might be consumed, and we may even deserve it. But that would happen, no matter how far we run, or how long we hide. We both spilt too much blood in there, for the machine to ever truly ignore us. The way I see it, we can wait for it to creep up on us, or we can go in there and direct the flow ourselves. We started this project together, and I am asking you now to end it with me. "

Awhile back, you had thought you were not at the studio for Susie. But you were. You went back to the studio for Bendy and Boris, and Sammy and Alice, and Susie and Bertram. It was a shared project, a passion that you all worked to breathe life into, that you couldn't let go of, even as times changed, and it took on water. This isn't the ending anyone deserved, and while you can't go back in time to undo it, you can change it, and build it back up again now. Maybe your hand will get sore with drawings, and your throat dry with thirst, as time flies out the window. But it will be worth it, to once again be proud of what you have created, to have a satisfactory ending, to make all the thoughts and effort you have put into it, mean something again.

"Joey. Last time I saw you, you asked me 'who are we? 'We are creators, Joey. That's what we do. We build things, not burn them. There are stories that need to be told, things left undone. So, will you come down to the old studio with me, and build again with me, one last time?"

* * *

_If you have read this far, Congratulations! I hope you enjoyed the ride!_

_I thoroughly enjoyed the game, and especially all the creativity that sprung up from it. All the projects, and head canons, and music and art, and it is beautiful! It is a gift!_

_I tried to have that a theme, In the fic, dreams, and creation, and the sheer time and effort that any creator puts into a work, reflected in the fic. Because it's been long and exhausting, and consuming, and maybe I've lost impartiality from doing this so long, but overall, I think I'm happy with it._

_Happy Anniversary Bendy!_


End file.
